A Krum-o-ween
by lilmione
Summary: 3rd in the 5th year series, follows To Your Brooms. A guest comes to Hogwarts for the Halloween feast but his intentions for coming may not be what they seem. R/Hr & H/G. I have returned at last! You probably all hate me now, but it's been UPDATED!! YAY!
1. Pigwidgeon vs. Kniff

Chapter One: Pigwidgeon vs. Kniff  
  
"Halloween is in two weeks," Ginny Weasley said softly.   
Hermione's attention was diverted long enough from her book to smile at Ginny. Smile stretching  
tightly across his features, Ron glanced in Ginny's direction before checking his watch and staring   
pointedly at the ceiling. The twins simply looked at each other and rubbed their hands together, the only  
thing more frightening than their expression what they were planning. Harry, too, gave her a small smile, his  
eyes drifting towards Ron before raising to the ceiling. Ginny stifled a giggle and resumed pushing her   
abandoned eggs across her plate. Engaged in a smiliar stifling of his mirth, Harry took the last bit of his  
pancakes. Staring at the two of them, Ron scowled and muttered something that caused Hermione's   
shoulders to lurch. Faces completely innocent, Harry and Ginny simply smiled at him and Ron muttered   
again before focusing all of his attention on his watc. Setting her book aside, Hermione turned and   
whispered in his ear. Ron's brows raised and he smiled faintly as he shook his head. Hermione shrugged and  
went back to her book, her gaze occasionally wandering from her book to Ron or the ceiling overhead.   
Scooting closer to Harry, Ginny smirked openly at her brother and continued in a low whisper,  
  
"I heard that there's going to be a surprise at the feast."  
"I wouldn't trust it--the Slytherins started it," Harry replied.  
Ginny's face fell and he started to chuckle as she self-consciously tucked her hair behind her ear.  
"Neville heard it from a Hufflepuff."  
"Not Carrol, I hope?"   
"No."  
"Don't talk about the Quaffle-hog," Ron interrupted, unconsciously rubbing the back of his neck.  
"Sorry," Harry and Ginny said together.  
  
Ron nodded and resumed his vigil of the ceiling. Hermione looked at him sympathetically, her  
gaze lingering over the place he had rubbed on his neck. Shifting uncomfortably in their seats, the twins  
mumbled something unintelligible and rose to leave. Biting her lip, Ginny silently pleaded with them not to  
go, but there was no persuading them. It hadn't been their fault. Deliberately catching their gaze as they left,  
Ron grinned reassuringly and the twins reluctantly returned it. Torn between going after them and staying,  
Ginny half rose only to have Harry catch her arm and slowly shake his head. Ginny sighed and sat back   
down, unable to keep from seeing Ron's hand raising to rub the back of his neck again, only to halt   
unexpectedlyas he stared at it guiltily. It had only happened three days ago.  
  
Ginny, Harry, and Hermione had been sitting before the fire--Hermione was in the midst of   
teaching them to play cards--when Ron unobtrusively slunk in through the portrait hole, his robes drawn up  
around his neck. Grinning madly, Harry rapped his fist upon the table and Hermione and Ginny screamed  
simultaneously, throwing away their cards. Placing her hands over her face, Hermione glared at Harry   
between her fingers and said,  
  
"Remind me why I taught you this game."  
"You like to be beaten soundly," Harry replied, starightening up the cards Hermione and Ginny  
had discarded.  
  
Ron took no notice of his friends as he walked past, burrowing his head deeper into his robes.  
Catching sight of him, Ginny stuck her tongue out at Harry and called,  
"Wanna play, Ron? We can deal you in since Harry just won AGAIN."   
"No," Ron answered shortly, still not looking at them.  
  
Exchanging quizzical glances, the trio clustered around the fire shrugged and Harry began   
shuffling the deck. Walking until he believed himself to be at a safe distance from them, Ron paused at the  
stairs leading up to the dormitories and gingerly placed a hand at the back of his neck. He winced and   
quickly shoved his hand in his pockets. Now if he could only make it up the stairs no one would know until  
it was too late to do anything about it. Glancing over his shoulder, he made sure that the three of them were  
still happily playing cards before he walked up the stairs. He didn't see Hermione studying him with an   
anxious expression, the three cards she held in front of her face invisible to her eyes. Instead he took the  
stairs as quickly as possible, trying desperately to ignore the throbbing in his neck.  
  
Reaching the dormitory, he shut the door behind him and leaned back against it for a moment.  
He had gotten past...that was all that mattered. A sharp pain shot through his neck and he gritted his teeth as  
he touched it with one hand. Stepping away from the door, he carefully began to take off his robes, the   
fabric sticking and peeling off rather painfully around his neck. Tossing the robes aside, Ron rummaged  
through his belongings, taking an old shirt and promptly pulling it over his head. It wouldn't take long for its   
collar to become as soaked as his robes. Where did Harry keep those old socks? Performing a similar search  
through Harry's things, Ron emerged with a ghastly looking pair, already rasiing the first to his neck when  
the door opened to reveal Hermione.  
  
"You're not supposed to be in here," Ron said thickly, turning quickly, but not quickly enough to  
keep her from seeing the sock clamped to his neck.   
"Are you bleeding?" Hermione asked quietly.  
Ron stared at her for a moment, surprised that she could be so calm. Tempted to say no, he   
opened his mouth several times without making any sound and finally answered,  
"Yes."  
Hermione's eyes widened and in the space of a blink, she was standing behind him and lifting the  
olive green sock away from his neck. Cringing, Ron clenched his fists and asked in a strained voice,  
"How bad is it?"   
"How did you get this?" Hermione asked instead, taking the sock and dabbing at his neck even  
though he winced every time the fabric met his skin.  
"How are you even reaching it?" Ron countered.  
The dabbing at his cut halted for a second and then continued as Hermione replied,  
"Tip toes, you ninny. I'm not leaving until you tell me and knowing you, that's going to be a  
very long time. So...can't we at least sit down?"  
  
Chuckling, Ron nodded and promptly collapsed on the end of his bed while Hermione   
continued to mop up his neck. A silence rose up between them as Ron furiously sought not to indicate the  
pain he suffered whiel Hermione tried not to let her imagination dwell on what had happened. Resolving that  
he had to tell her something, Ron waited until the bleeding had stopped and Hermione was busy trying to  
remember the right charm to bandage his neck to say,  
  
"I was ambushed."  
In the middle of her incantation Hermione paused, her eyes widening even though Ron couldn't  
see. Deliberately keeping his gaze averted, Ron clenched his fists again as he continued,  
"I didn't go to Madam Pomfey because I don't know who did it--though I think I can guess. In  
my robes."   
Looking at him quizzically, Hermione quickly cast the spell that would bandage his neck and  
scurried over to where he had thrown them. Her nose wrinkled at the blood soaked into the collar but Ron's  
expression was blank when she looked at him. Sticking one hand inside, Hermoine searched around until  
she felt a circular object and pulled it out. Her face fell as she looked at it. Recognizing it as one of the   
buttons Fred and George had made a week ago after the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff(see To Your  
Brooms), she frowned to see that it no longer read Horrible Hurtful Hufflepuffs, but Wimpy Whiny Wittle  
Weasley. On the back, the pin that was strangely longer than most was unclasped and crusted over with   
blood. Hand covering her mouth, Hermione wordlessly looked up at Ron who tried to smile and failed.  
  
"That's the only one I managed to save. I expect that in the morning it'll read Horrible Hurtful  
Hufflepuffs again."   
  
Lips tightening, Hermione looked down at the button as if she would will it not to change and   
Ron was certain that she was searching through her mind for a counter charm as she moved to sit beside him.  
He didn't say anything else, periodically closing his eyes as faint twinges of pain seared through his cut and he  
tried not to think about what had happened. If he told her, she was going to demand that he tell someone and   
it would do him no good. He had no proof and the fact that he had been hurt at all could just have been an  
accident. Unlikely, but possible. Why wasn't she plying him with questions? Ron had never known Hermione  
to be this silent for so long willingly. Glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes, he smiled to see that she   
was twisting the life out of the blood spattered sock and gently pried it away from her.  
  
"I forgot something, you remember, so I went back. The lights went out in the corridor for some  
reason--I thought it was Peeves--and the next thing I knew, somebody dropped a barrel full of buttons on my  
head. That one hit me when I got up," he explained softly.  
"Didn't you see or hear anything?"  
"Footsteps, nothing else. Look, it's changed," Ron said with a shrug, taking the button and flipping  
it over in his hands.  
Looking down at the button in dismay, Hermione sighed and ventured,  
"Ron..."  
"I don't have any proof! All I have is my word and a button that doesn't say what is said when it  
hit me. And I don't want to be the one who's responsible for an all out war between Hufflepuff and   
Gryffindor. That's the last thing anyone needs right now," Ron concluded, flinging aside both the button and  
the blood-spattered sock with distaste while he waited for her to lecture him.  
  
Hermione said nothing for several minutes, her gaze focused straight ahead. Squirming, Ron   
gingerly checked the bandage she had magically applied to his neck and told himself to be patient. Smiling  
mischievously, Hermione suddenly turned to him and placed a hand across his forehead.  
  
"What're you doing?"  
"Checking to make certain you're feeling well. You can't be, otherwise you'd have barged into  
the Hufflepuff common room with your fists flying."   
"Oh, I wanted to," Ron muttered, his features darkening. Beside him, Hermione stiffened in alarm  
as he continued, "I wanted to take the bloody button and chuck it right at the Quaffle-hog's head. I spotted a  
Hufflepuff to follow...but it wouldn't do any good. He'd just retaliate. I reckon they are kissing cousins. He's   
too upset...that's so sick."  
  
Burying his face in his hands, Ron began to shake with silent laughter. He would give anything to  
be able to knock off the smug on Carrol's face but it wouldn't get him anywhere. Dumping a barrel full of   
buttons on top of Ron had been as good-humored as the original buttons were, but the hit had been deliberate  
and only one person had the motivation. He was beginning to think that there was more to Carrol's dislike of  
him than what had happened at the Quidditch tryouts, but what it could be, he didn't want to try and figure   
out. The only thing that mattered was keeping this thing quiet--Carrol expect him to go shouting it from the   
rooftops and if Ron had anything to say about it, neither Ravenclaw or Slytherin or even the majority of   
Gryffindor would ever hear a word about it. Beside him, Hermione was lost in thought, one hand at her chin,  
her eyes focused straight ahead. A hint of confusion was etched upon her features--Ron wagered she wasn't  
able to accept what he had said--and he turned to her with a small smile.  
  
"'Mione, if we tell them..."  
"If?" Hermione asked softly, throwing him a brief look. Ron sighed.  
"When we tell them, we have to play it down. I don't want Fred and George taking up arms on my  
behalf. I'll tell Harry, but the twins and Gin...they can't know."  
"Your neck needs explaining."  
"I fell on the stairs."   
Hermione's brows raisd and she looked at his neck as if to say there was no possible way he had  
gotten it falling down the stairs.  
"If they come to their own conclusions, I won't deny it, but I won't confirm it either. You won't  
say otherwise?"  
  
He looked at her so pleadingly that Hermione didn't see how she could refuse him, but she   
couldn't answer him immediately. He had a point--which was odd, considering it was Ron. The twins were  
as irrational as Ron at times and telling them that there had been a deliberate attack on their younger brother   
due to something they had done would only end in disaster. Ginny could handle it, but she would worry and   
by now Hermione was well aware of Ron's aversion to anyone worrying over him when he thought it was   
unnecessary. And she could not argue with his choice not to retaliate, even though it amazed her that he  
had even come to it. Where was the Ron Weasley who usually acted first and thought afterwards? For a   
moment she actually thought she missed him.  
  
"I'll back you up," she said finally, throwing him a weak smile.  
Relief flooded his face and Ron quickly restrained himself from hugging her in his gratitude.  
"Thanks," he managed to say before springing from the bed, suddenly anxious to be away from   
her.  
  
"Get a grip, Weasley," Ron muttered under his breath, running his fingers through his hair and   
patting the bandage on his neck in an action that was soon to become a habit. On the bed, Hermione's face  
blanched and she rose softly to her feet, her gaze distinctly avoiding his. Glancing at her over his shoulder,  
Ron started as she stooped and picked up his discarded robes. Murmuring, Hermione smiled as the blood  
stains disappeared and neatly folded up his robes. She looked around for a place to put them only to clasp   
the black folds to her chest as she asked softly,  
  
"Were you going to tell me you fell down the stairs?"  
Ron froze, his mouth opening without sound several times before he turned to face her, his  
lop-sided smile stretching sheepishly across his face as he answered,  
"Yes." Her face fell and she dropped his gaze as Ron slowly shook his head and continued, "But  
I knew you wouldn't believe it."  
"You could have saved us both some trouble," Hermione retorted, slowly looking up at him after  
throwing his robes on his bed.  
"Nah. What fun would that be? Should we go back before they organize a spy mission?"   
"They wouldn't dare," Hermione cried, her shoulders starting to shake.  
Ron simply rasied his brows. Hermione burst out laughing.  
  
Despite his efforts, Ron had not been able to keep what had happened a secret from his siblings   
and no matter what he said, the twins considere themselves responsible. Ginny sighed and looked towards  
the ceiling along with everyone else in the Great hall. The owls had arrived.  
  
Peering up into the swarm of feathered birds, Ron muttered under his breath until he caught sight   
of a tiny feathered missile headed straight for him. Jaws dropping, his companions were as startled as he when  
Pigwidgeon plummeted from the ceiling into Ron's lap, hooting continously. The tiny owl was on Ron's lap  
for only a second before it began to shake uncontrollably, its hooting sounding more like strangled hiccoughs.  
Cradling the owl in his hands, Ron smiledin relief to see the letter from Charlie he bore and gently began to  
untie it. At his touch, Pigwidgeon ceased hooting, but began again a moment later, more frantically than   
before. Bewildered, Ron freed the letter and set it aside, raising Pigwidgeon to his eyes in order to have a   
serious chat with him only to have the tiny owl start shaking again. It hadn't been that far...and Charlie(who   
was secretly just as fond of the little owl as Ron was)always made sure Pig was fully rested before sending  
him back. What was upsetting the silly bird so? Ron turned to his companions to solicit their opinions only  
to find they were still gaping at the ceiling. He had but to raise his eyes to become their mirror.  
  
Lazily circling the permiters of the Great Hall was the largest owl he had ever seen. Gray and   
black in color, its ears were long and pointed and even at this distance, its glaring yellow eyes seemed larger  
than usual. Circling the ceiling a second time, the gigantic owl hovered in mid-air for a split second before  
gliding downward to land in front of Hermione. As the owl looked towards Ron, Pig began to squirm and it  
took all of his strength to keep the owl from flying away. Cheeks turning a faint shade of pink, Hermione   
tentatively untied the note attached to the leg the owl had offered her, the broad scrawl across it belonging to  
Krum. Message delivered, the gigantic owl remained where it was, its head turning constantly to survey the  
inhabitants of the hall. Whenever its gaze happened to fall on Pig, the tiny owl emitted a high pitched hoot   
and cowered within Ron's hands. Gaze riveted upon the gray owl, Hermione wordlessly extended the letter  
towards Ron, not even bothering to read it for herself. Sighing, Ron deposited the still quivering Pig in his  
lap and took the letter with one hand, the other absently stroking Pig. Opening the letter, he glanced around  
to make certain that his usual assembly of listeners were paying attention and cleared his throat.  
  
"Dear Hermy-own-ninny: I hope that I haff not frightened you vith my new owl. His name is  
Kniff and I haff had a vary difficult time aff catching him. My students are doing vary well. I expect they vill  
be flying like experts in no time at all. (Boring, boring, Ron added)Vhat do you think of Kniff? He does his  
job vary good, yes? I haff spent most of my time training him this past week. I am pleased to hear that you   
are keeping up vith your studies and that your house has von its first Quidditch match. You may vant to tell  
Mr. Veasley that ramming the Seeker is not a good habit to haff. (Ron fidgeted slightly as chuckles circled  
around the group and continued reading) I vill be late for my next class if I write much more but I haff   
something to tell you. I hope you vill not be angry. I..." Ron halted, Krum's next word freezing in his throat.  
"Ron?" Hermione questioned, a strange smile on her face as she gestured idly for him to continue  
reading, her gaze still focused on the abnormally large Kniff.  
Swallowing, Ron glanced at her and continued in a tight voice,  
"I vill be coming to Hogwarts for the Halloween feast."  
"What?" Hermione cried, whisking the letter out of his hands and reading it for herself.   
"Is he really coming?" Ginny asked, sliding over to peek at the letter.   
Hermione nodded and the two girls erupted into a fit of giggles that made both Harry and Ron   
roll their eyes. Glancing hastily at the glowering Kniff, Ron glared back at the owl and scooped up Pig and   
Charlie's letter. Krum and his oh-so-peachy visit would be the topic for what remained of breakfast and he  
had no desire to be present for it. There was Charlie's letter to read, too, and one to be sent immediately in   
return. In spite of himself, he looked over his shoulder as he exited the Great Hall. Hermione and Ginny were  
still in raptures over the letter--Harry was looking as if he wished he had left with Ron as the two girls   
promptly turned and involved him in their excited chatter. All this fuss over Krum...how was he going to get  
through the next few days?  
  
Finding a secluded spot on one of the stairways, Ron set Pig beside him on the stairs and opened  
up Charlie's letter. Considering what Hermione's letter had contained, Ron was more than afraid of what his  
favorite brother had to say.  
  
Ron: I can't write much because I have to leave in a few minutes. We're going into hiding in the  
mountains. Something is definitely going on here...wish I knew what. You made the right decision about the   
button, by the way. Never saw that coming. Keep a close watch on Hermione. I know that's not asking you to  
do anything you don't already do(Very funny, Char)but the more I find out here, the less I like her   
communication with Krum. He may be involved without realizing it. Arm's okay...no more bleeding...too   
close of a shave, though. Write me only if anything important develops...we need to keep our location as   
secret as possible--Pig's small enough to escape much notice but a low profile is more important than   
Quidditch matches. Don't worry and don't let Hermione worry either. Candyware. Charlie.  
  
Scowling, Ron obediently said the word, "Candyware," and watched as a soft light enveloped the  
piece of parchment and the writing on it transformed. Should anyone find the letter among Ron's belongings,  
it would be nothing more than a teasing note from his older brother without any references to watching over  
Hermione or hiding in the mountains. Charlie wasn't going to like Krum's coming to Hogwarts, not one bit.  
Ron didn't like it either. Running his hands through his hair again, he sighed heavily and looked at Pig,   
happily perched on the edge of the stairs. The little own turned his head quizzically at Ron's gaze and let out  
a soft hoot. Reluctantly Ron started to smile and picked up Pig before rising to his feet. He had better write  
Charlie right away...he had a feeling he already knew what his brother was going to ask him to do, but it   
would be better if he officially received his orders. Why, in heaven's name, had that idiot Bulgarian decided  
to come and visit Hermione? If it was to romance her...Ron shuddered and quickened his pace. The sooner  
he heard from Charlie the better. This morning had started out so well.   



	2. Secret Agent Man

CHAPTER TWO: SECRET AGENT MAN  
  
  
Halloween morning dawned and throughout the dormitories of Hogwarts there   
was the usual mad scuffle to survey the decorations in the Great Hall. From the   
first to the seventh years, every student was agog with anticipation...except one.   
Though the other occupants of the fifth year dormitory had long since left, Ron   
Weasley still lay in his four poster bed, fully dressed with his arms crossed   
behind his head. He was not going down for breakfast. Traitorously his stomach   
growled and he scowled at it with distaste before heaving a weary sigh. Krum   
was coming today, good old Vicky Krum and if he had to witness the   
culmination of the excitement that had been building up in Hermione since   
receiving the blasted Bavarians' letter, he would be violently ill. Visitors were a   
rarity at Hogwarts and seldom were international Quidditch stars and it was   
understandable why Hermione would be excited. It was the way she tried not to   
talk about it when he was around that irritated him-he could tell by her   
expression whenever she thought of it. He had enough to worry about without   
Hermione worrying about his feelings. Part of him did not give a rip if Krum   
came and tried to romance her with his absurd accent and superior Quidditch   
skills while another deviously compared himself to the Bavarian and delighted   
in pointing out his frequent shortcomings. If Hermione was really extending her   
foolishness about Lockhart to Krum...then what did all of it matter? It mattered   
tremendously-thanks to the letter he had received from Charlie.  
  
For possibly the hundredth time, Ron reviewed what the latest letter from his   
"favorite" older brother had said, the words having been frozen into his memory   
almost from the first time he read them. Part of him did not think the need for   
caution was as strong as his brother believed, while another did not trust Krum   
any farther than he could fly and was anxious for any excuse to watch him with   
the same beady, penetrating eyes as his gargantuan owl Kniff. Kniff. The huge   
owl had sent Pig into a permanent state of hiding and no amount of coaxing or   
tidbits could get the tiny, frightened owl to leave the other owls. To the   
amusement of Ron and his friends, Hedwig had adopted the little owl, glaring   
over at Kniff along with the other Hogwarts owls. There was something about   
the huge horned owl that caused its fellow species to stay away from it. In fact,   
it would go near nor accept food from anyone but Hermione and had its own   
perch far away from the other birds. The few times Ron had tried to coax Pig   
out of his corner, the owl's lantern-like eyes had focused on him so intently, it   
was as if they were burning holes into his back. Someone, possibly "Vicky" had   
taught the owl to look for him...there was no doubt in his mind that Kniff knew   
him specifically from the others, particularly when the owl did not give Harry or   
the twins so much as a glance when they made their futile attempts towards   
Pig. What was going on at Durmstrang? Charlie didn't know-or if he knew, he   
wasn't about to give Ron any hints, other than to make certain Krum and   
Hermione were never really alone.  
  
The scowl on Ron's features deepened at the assignment his brother had given   
him. "Krum is not someone to have for a friend. I don't think it is intentional   
towards Hermione, but it would be best if they were not alone together for very   
long. Let them think they are alone. If you even try to pretend that the idea of   
spying hadn't already occurred to you, I will relinquish my role as your favorite   
brother in front of Percy and tell him it was all a scam. Trust me. Please."   
Charlie's last words echoed in his head as surely as if he had spoken them and   
Ron heaved a sigh as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. If Charlie had   
not issued his threat to tell Percy about the scam, he would have thought little   
of the caution the letter urged, but if Charlie was willing to abandon the   
greatest joke the Weasley siblings had ever pulled on their stuffy, puffed up   
brother, Krum was worth watching. And the idea to spy on Hermione and Krum   
had occurred to him...but he had instantly discarded it. Secretly he had been   
proud that he had not even considered following Hermione around Hogwarts   
while the Bavarian was attempting to woo her, and now his brother wanted him   
to do the very thing he had determined not to do. She was going to know. He   
knew he couldn't hide from her, no matter how he tried, and he would be   
unable to explain anything. Unfortunately, secrecy was Charlie's strictest rule   
concerning the whole mess...he wasn't even allowed to tell Harry any of it.   
Eventually Charlie had promised to let Harry in on the scheme, but for now it   
was to remain between the two Weasley brothers and Ron cringed in   
anticipation of Harry's certain thought that it was a jealous rampage that would   
drive him to spy on Hermione and Krum. Ginny would probably giggle herself   
sick over it as well. Ron did not stoop to spying to soothe his alleged feelings of   
jealousy...he simply tore the limbs from his Krum figurine instead.  
  
Thinking of the figurine brought a smile to his face and he rose from his bed to   
leave for the Great Hall in spite of his vow not to eat. Krum was due to arrive   
any moment and he couldn't miss the Bavarian's arrival, no matter how   
revolting the thought was. Why did the great lummox have to come to Hogwarts   
anyway? Thrusting his hands in his pockets, Ron jogged out of the dormitory,   
through the common room, and out into the hallways of the castle, wishing that   
he were going anywhere, even to Potions, besides the Great Hall. Fear coursed   
through him as he puzzled over his own question, afraid, suddenly, that Krum   
was actually...in...love...with Hermione and would continue to pursue her until   
she agreed to be his. Involuntarily he made a gagging face and his stride was   
slightly irregular as he meandered his way through the empty corridors. More   
than anything he wanted to discard even the notion of Krum's having more   
than a harmless fixation for Hermione, but something about the Quidditch   
star's persistence told him otherwise. He could just see it now, Hermione, wife   
of the famous Viktor Krum, going to his every Quidditch match, smiling in all   
the wizard papers. Why, with his luck, they'd send him free tickets every year,   
and he could go to the Quidditch Cup and sit in the best seats just for having   
the distinction of having gone to school with Viktor Krum's wife. She's not   
dating him, Weasley, she's not dating him and she doesn't plan on it, he told   
himself quietly, his lips shaping the words in spite of himself. Trust Hermione   
to have a fling with a guy who was probably dabbling in the Dark Arts and   
aligned with You-Know-Who and be too stubborn to see it in him. For the first   
time he realized that he actually wished that Krum was not what Charlie   
suspected he could be...if only for Hermione's sake. If he really was   
trouble...she would be right in the thick of it and Ron wasn't certain if he or   
Harry could get her out of it.  
  
"Excuse me."   
"What? Sorry," Ron mumbled, not realizing that he had collided with someone   
until after the fact. His height really was a problem sometimes. Briefly looking   
down at whoever it was he had collided with, he noted only the Ravenclaw   
symbol on their cloak before stepping aside and continuing on his way.  
"Ron Weasley?"   
Halting, Ron turned politely, his lips twisting into a frown as the thought that   
Krum could be arriving this very moment filled his mind. The Ravenclaw who   
kept him waiting was a girl, of about Harry's height, with plain brown hair and   
hazel-ish eyes that were currently fixated on him with a shyness he did not   
understand.  
"I didn't do it," he said softly, even more surprised when the girl laughed shortly   
and replied,  
"I'm not accusing you of doing anything. Not everyone thinks that you and   
Harry get away with practically murder."  
"It's next on our list." The girl laughed again and Ron goggled, running a hand   
through his hair and causing several of the red strands to stand straight in the   
air.  
"I only wanted to tell you that Carroll is behaving abominably about the whole   
Quidditch thing. It isn't your fault you're the best Keeper Hogwarts has."   
"The best?" Ron questioned jokingly, watching as a red flush spread across the   
girl's cheek and she hurriedly dropped his gaze.  
"Well, in my opinion," she murmured, looking up at him through her lashes   
before darting off down the hallway.   
  
Staring after her for several moments, Ron forgot to wonder who she was as an   
overwhelming sensation of flattery overcame him. No one had told him he was   
the best, not even his own teammates. They good naturedly cursed his ability   
but no one had ever tried to swell his head as much as the strange Ravenclaw   
girl had. Strangely, he couldn't recollect ever seeing her before-not that he had   
much contact with Ravenclaws, but she couldn't have been much older or   
younger than himself and yet he had no clue who she could be. He ran his   
hand through his hair again, the end result something which would send his   
friends into laughter the moment they saw him, and shook himself violently.   
Krum, Weasley! Taking off at a run, he made it to the Great Hall in record time,   
and seriously out of breath, and he tried to slip unnoticed to the seat that had   
been left for him beside Harry but the loudness of his breathing announced him   
well before anyone saw him. Ignoring the giggles and snickers floating around   
him(he had no idea that it had everything to do with his hair)Ron coolly slid into   
the seat beside Harry and popped the first thing within reach into his mouth.   
Chewing the dried out roll, he avoided the gazes of his friends, secretly annoyed   
that he seemed to be the focus of everyone's attention. You'd think it was the   
end of the world that he came down to breakfast at the last possible moment.   
The wonder of the Halloween decorations was lost on him as he mindlessly   
chewed, all his thoughts focused on Krum's arrival.  
  
"Ron, there is an invention, made by the Muggles, that's quite ingenious   
actually. It's called a comb. Have you heard of it?" Fred asked finally, his   
laughter escaping along with George and Ron absently placed one hand to his   
head.  
"Is it sticking up?"   
"Is it red?'" George retorted before succumbing to his laughter. Mindlessly Ron   
patted at his head, knowing that it would do little to make the strands flat again   
and not caring. Helping himself to some fruit, he turned to Harry, who was   
staring at him in a mixture of laughter and horror, and said,  
"Have I missed anything?"  
"Other than a mirror?" Fred suggested. Ron threw him a glare that should have   
silenced his brother but only sent him into louder laughter.   
"No, except Hermione's leaving with Dumbledore to greet Krum at the doors.   
Everyone's waiting for him to arrive," Harry answered, gesturing to the four   
tables filled with Hogwarts students even though more than three fourths of   
their plates were empty. Swallowing, Ron scanned the table's inhabitants,   
finding the sympathetic gaze of Ginny across from him even as she shook her   
head at the state of his hair. Brows raising, Ron quickly pulled out his wand   
and muttered something vaguely resembling "straighten," and the red strands   
obediently flattened. A few remained sticking up but he knew better than to try   
and fight with them. No one would have noticed if Krum had already been in   
the room anyhow.  
"Ron, I'd like to introduce you to our good friend, Mr. Comb. Hello, Ron, how   
are you? I'm just dandy, Mr. Comb, except for my hair. What's wrong with it?   
Well, Mr. Comb, I can't get it to go straight..."   
Rolling his eyes at the twins, Ron shut out their voices and carefully buttered a   
piece of toast. Too plainly he could feel both Harry and Ginny's eyes on him and   
he hated the thought of being their bug under the glass. What did they think he   
was going to do? Throw tantrums? Attack Krum when he walked in?   
"Say, Har..." he began, setting down his toast and intending to at least share   
his morning's plans with his friend when a shriek echoed in the hallway and a   
first year Hufflepuff burst into the Great Hall, tripping on his robes as he   
proclaimed,  
"He's here!"   
  
Seriously considering crawling under the table as the entire school burst into   
murmurs of excitement, Ron began to slide downwards only to have the collar   
of his robes yanked by Harry.   
"Pretend," was all that he said, but as Ron goggled back at him, a sneaking   
suspicion filled him that Harry was not so enamoured of Krum anymore either   
and he was surprised by the almost painful relief that filled him at the thought.   
  
Heralded by Dumbledore, Viktor Krum entered the Great Hall, dressed in   
flowing black robes designated as belonging to Durmstrang. Behind him,   
looking rather pretty, was a smiling Hermione and Ron fought against the   
nausea within his stomach. Quietly Dumbledore retreated to his seat as Krum   
made a point of walking along each table to shake the hands that were offered   
to him and to listen to the gushings of eager fans. Scowling, Ron studied the   
Bavarian as objectively as he could manage. That being only a second, he gave   
in to his own perceptions and did not like what he saw. Whatever Krum was   
doing at Durmstrang, it had somehow made him good looking. The large nose   
now seemed jutting and striking and the addition of a Quidditch scar across his   
cheek gave him a truly dangerous look. Ron could imagine how easily the   
hearts of the girls were palpitating and he grimaced anew. His dark hair was   
still long in front and fell into his eyes, but the tossing back of the long strands   
was a sight that was pleasant for feminine eyes to behold. He looked every bit   
the dashing, dangerous older man that Ron feared him to be...and beside him   
he could be nothing but a gangly, red-haired and freckled fifteen year old whose   
limbs were still sometimes too big for him to control. Hermione would be a fool   
not to encourage her relationship with the Quidditch star/instructor, a real fool   
indeed. He heard the whisperings even as the thought raced through his mind   
and he slumped in his seat without any hindrance from Harry. The image he   
had previously concocted of Hermione standing next to Krum flooded his vision   
and he closed his eyes against it. Charlie had to be right...if he wasn't,   
Hermione would be Mrs. Viktor Krum come graduation.   
  
Movement caught his attention and he slowly looked up to find the Bavarian he   
despised standing in front of him, his large hand stretched towards him while a   
rakish grin graced his charming face.  
"Hello, Mr. Veasley. Mr. Potter. Thank you for taking care of Kniff. Vhere is my   
little friend?"  
"Little?!" Ron choked before anyone could stop him, least of all himself, and he   
scowled as Ginny kicked him under the table.  
"With the other owls, Krum," Harry replied pleasantly, taking the hand that was   
in front of Ron and shaking it firmly.  
"I hope he haas not been too much trouble. He is still vary young."   
"Oh he's been wonderful," Ron replied, hating the sarcasm that he couldn't   
seem to get rid of. Harry and Ginny kicked him in unison and he flashed Krum   
a smile that was as friendly as he could manage. Hovering behind him,   
Hermione briefly met his gaze and the smile instantly faded from Ron's lips. He   
had forgotten Hermione.  
"I'm going to take Viktor to see Kniff and then to the grounds. He..."  
"I am vary interested in seeing your Quidditch techniques, Mr. Veasley. Your   
friends are velcome to join us, af course, but I am curious to see if you are as   
vonderful on a broom as Hermy-own-ninny says." Glancing from Hermione to   
Krum and back again, Ron swallowed and said slowly,  
"I'd be honored."  
"No, it is me, vho is honored, Mr. Veasley."  
"Do call me Ron," he muttered, certain that if he heard his name   
mispronounced one more time he was not going to be able to restrain his   
laughter.  
"This afterenoon then? Hermy-own-ninny and I vill be vaiting for you on the   
Quidditch field. A pleasure to see all af you again."   
"You too," Ron said cheerfully, flashing Krum the same fake smile that caused   
Harry to suddenly bury his face in his hands. Mouth covered to keep herself   
from laughing, Ginny nodded at Hermione's anxious look and turned a   
completely innocent expression towards Ron. Eyes riveted on Hermione as she   
took the arm Viktor offered her, Ron noted with slight pleasure that she cast   
him one nervous glance over her shoulder before being swept away by the   
Bavarian. There was a subdued nature to Hermione while in Krum's presence   
that he did not like...she was infinitely prettier while on his arm and yet she   
was not quite Hermione. Not his Mione anyway. She is not yours, Weasley, not   
in any shape or fashion, and WHEN are you going to get that through your   
thick skull?   
  
Taking a hasty bite of his toast, Ron rose abruptly to his feet, uncertain if   
enough time had passed since Hermione and Krum's departure for him to be   
leaving, but too restless to stay in the Great Hall any longer without the   
presence of the pair. "It would be best if they were not alone together for very   
long..." Charlie's words repeated themselves in his mind and he abandoned   
caution for the sake of chasing after them. Taking his toast in case his stomach   
decided to make any traitorous noises, Ron moved to leave the table only to   
have his cloak seized from behind. For several moments his legs moved   
frantically while he remained in place and he sighed as Harry's voice   
proclaimed,  
"Where do you think you're going?"  
"Back to the Common Room to get my broom. I'm not going to show dear old   
Vicky my skills without getting some extra practice in."  
"You're staying here."  
"Don't be such a bloody prig. I'm not going anywhere near the owls," Ron   
muttered, hating the noise of satisfaction that escaped Harry's throat."  
"That is exactly where you intend to go. Don't deny it."  
"Pig deserves some freedom now that his nightmare will be leaving."  
"You can rescue Pig later."  
"Har, I have to go. If I swear I'm not going near them?"  
"Your word isn't worth a chocolate frog."  
"I really have to go. Do you think Hermione would stand for my following them?   
She'd find me in a second. Only an idiot would try to spy on them." Ron tried to   
throw Harry an innocent smile but his friend's eyes narrowed and the grip on   
his cloak only tightened.  
"And you are just that sort of idiot, sit down."   
  
Groaning, Ron abruptly jerked his cloak free of Harry's hold, only to seize Harry   
by his cloak and drag him from the Great Hall. Too startled to even think of   
protesting, Harry simply stared at Ron as he pulled him into the nearest room,   
closing the door and locking it angrily. Releasing Harry, Ron backed several feet   
away from him, his wand in his hand as he pointed it at his friend.  
  
"You don't like Krum anymore than I do."  
"No, I don't," Harry answered plainly. Ron's wand lowered slightly and he   
almost smiled as he said,  
"I can't tell you what, but there's something going on with him. I don't know   
what it is exactly, but something. Why'd he get so good looking all of a sudden?"  
"Just to win Hermione...and annoy you." Ignoring Harry's smirk, Ron began   
pacing the room, fighting against his conscience as the temptation to tell Harry   
surged within in.  
"I'm serious, Harry. I don't trust him...and I don't think he should be alone with   
Hermione. I may be the sort of idiot who would spy on them...but I wouldn't do   
it unless I...or someone else, thought there was a reason to."  
"Ron, if this is some sort of a ruse because you're jealous..."  
"It isn't. There is a need to do this. Trust me. Please." Echoing Charlie's words,   
Ron silently prayed that they would have the same success for him as Harry   
pondered for several moments.  
"All right, I won't say anything. Provided I come with you to make certain you   
don't get caught."  
"The cloak?"  
"There isn't time. She'd know to look for it. I think we'll just have to do it the   
old-fashioned way," Harry replied with a smile that Ron promptly returned.   
"Harry, I'd like you to meet Mr. Pick-pocket. Well, hello, Mr. Pick-pocket. Please   
tell me the secrets of your trade."   
  
Groaning, Harry unlocked the door and strode into the hallway. Hurrying to   
catch up to him, Ron grinned as future "misters" entered his mind and he   
heaved a soft sigh of relief. To have Harry now in the scheme, even in part, was   
refreshing...and it meant that his instincts weren't wrong about Krum.  
  
"I thought you liked Vicky," he said softly, taking care to step as quietly as   
Harry as they wove their way through the castle.  
"He was never as bad as you thought...but there is something...odd about him.   
I don't know. Call it a feeling, but whenever you read his letters, I can't help but   
think that what he's telling us about the things that go on at Durmstrang is all   
a lie." Throwing Ron a glance over his shoulder, Harry increased his pace and   
the two friends moved in silence up the stairs until they reached their   
destination. No voices wafted out through the door and after several gestures,   
Harry pulled out his wand and the door swung open a bare crack. Sliding   
forward, Ron carefully inched one eye into the crack the door provided,   
frightened suddenly that he might see something he didn't want to see, only to   
find that the room was empty. Muttering under his breath, he pushed the door   
closed and mutely shook his head at Harry.  
"They must have gone out to the grounds to send Kniff back," Harry   
whispered. Rising, Ron led the way down the stairs, a grim determination   
settling over him as he began to fear that Hermione had been alone with Krum   
too long. No longer afraid of being heard, he glanced back at a still silently   
treading Harry and asked,  
"Where are we going to say we were during this? We'll have to go practice   
eventually thanks to my big mouth."   
"I can't believe you admitted it."  
"Never mind that, you idiot, think of an excuse."  
"Since when did I become the designated liar?"  
"Since Hermione took up with the enemy, now think. Your word is still   
considered better than mine, though I don't know why, so you're the only one   
they'll believe."  
"All right. We spent part of it going over Quidditch moves in one our   
books and then we spent forever trying to coax Pig to come out. If anyone says   
they didn't see us, we'll just say we had given up by then."  
"It's lousy, but it'll do."  
"Whose harebrained scheme is this anyway?"  
"Not mine," Ron muttered, silencing Harry as they slipped out the back   
way to the grounds. It didn't take them long to spot Hermione and Krum,   
strolling along the Hogwarts grounds as if they hadn't a care in the world. Ron   
fought back against the now familiar sickness rising within his stomach and   
nodded as Harry gestured towards the cover of the bushes.   
  
"We can try for one of the trees when their backs are turned. That's the   
best chance we'll have of seeing most of what they do. I can't guarantee we'll   
hear anyting," Harry whispered, gesturing towards one of the larger trees which   
overlooked a broad expanse of the grounds.  
"I don't need or want to hear anything. I just have to watch," Ron said   
through gritted teeth, no longer grateful for Harry's presence as the lilt to his   
friend's brows was becoming more and more suspicious. Crouching behind the   
brush until Hermione stooped to show Krum something of interest, Harry and   
Ron stealthily crept towards the tree, forgetting that they were awkward   
climbers. Hefting Harry to one of the better handholds, Ron nervously looked   
over his shoulder at the pair bent over something in the grass. Whatever could   
be so blasted fascinating?!   
"I'm up," Harry hissed and Ron hurriedly scrambled to ascend the bark himself.   
Of all the Weasley siblings, Ginny was the most accomplished at climbing trees.   
Bill had never had any time for it, both he and Charlie had soon devised   
magical means of getting what the trees provided, and Percy sneered at such   
things. Fred and George were too busy concocting different devices to aid them   
in their climbing while Ron had simply lacked coordination of his long limbs.   
Some of Ginny's teaching returned to him, however, and he managed to find a   
place beside Harry on the largest branch without embarrassment. A perfect   
view of Hermione and Krum greeted them from their leafy vantage point and   
though they couldn't hear anything, the couple could move several feet in any   
direction and not escape their notice.  
"Now what?" Harry asked, pulling out his wand and studying it absently.  
"We watch."   
"Great."   
  
  
Hi! To everyone who ever read/loved this story...I apologize for abandoning it. I didn't mean to stop once I got addicted to Harry Potter fanfic but other things got in the way. Tonight I am in a depressed mood and decided to go back to my good old Ickle for some comfort. Since I won't let myself read the books again until I know for sure that Book 5 is a reality, this will have to do. I'm sorry I disappointed so many of you by letting it go. I worried that the fanfic was getting in the way of my real writing, and as much as I love Ron and co, they're not mine and I can only pretend that they are. I will apologize as many times as is necessary and will endeavor not to do it again now that I've stared once more. There should be more to come. I've left Ron and Harry in quite a predicament, and there is the whole "practice" scene with Krum to do. I did think about my poor abandoned fan-fic and felt wretched for leaving people hanging. The trouble was, I started planning too much and got stuck and things got away from me. But there is more Ron and Hermione to come and Harry and Ginny and a whole bunch of fun things, hopefully!! Please forgive me and still like what I write  
  
Lil Mione :):)  
(Beth) 


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